Nix followed Ambrose through the winding halls of the palace, his mind racing with questions. Where were they going? What was next? He struggled to keep up with the prince's long strides until they stopped before a pair of grand doors, beautifully engraved with gold fixtures. Two royal guards stood at attention outside.

“Have someone bring food for me and my guest,” Ambrose ordered curtly. “And make sure they include plenty of fresh fruit.” With that, he pushed the doors open and slammed them shut behind them.

The room they entered was both lavish and intimidating. A roaring fire warmed the space despite the summer season, its glow reflecting off the polished stone floors. The high-vaulted ceiling made the chamber feel vast, yet the heavy tapestries and rows of bookshelves gave it a sense of intimacy. Nix took in the scene: a large study hall and, to the right, a bedroom behind an open archway.

Ambrose’s face was still tight with frustration from their earlier confrontation with King Caelus. Nix paced quietly, unsure what to say or do in this unfamiliar, grand setting.

“Are you thirsty? Have some water.” Ambrose’s voice broke the silence, his tone gentler now. He handed Nix a goblet. “I should have asked for juice as well.”

“Water is fine, thank you,” Nix murmured, sipping carefully, trying to hide his nervousness.

Ambrose gestured toward an armchair, adjusting it for Nix. “Sit. I imagine you have a lot of questions. I’ll try to answer as best as I can.”

Nix hesitated, then sat, staring into the flickering fire before looking back at Ambrose. “You’re the prince of Elysia... but you live here, in Eoten? Why were you pretending to be a soldier? And—will the king kill Hamford?”

The questions tumbled out in a rush, but Ambrose didn’t seem bothered by the barrage. He took a deep breath, leaning back in his own chair as if readying himself for a difficult conversation.

“King Alastor and the late Princess Corrine are my parents,” Ambrose began. “My father has two older sons from his first marriage, and I am the youngest. Since I’m the least likely to inherit the throne of Elysia, they decided I would become Caelus’s heir—his link to the royal bloodline through my mother.”

Ambrose’s words dripped with bitterness, and Nix noticed the way his hands tightened around the goblet. “It wasn’t my choice,” Ambrose continued. “I wanted to be a mercenary, to travel, to explore. But instead, I was shipped here to play the dutiful heir.”

Nix listened intently, his brow furrowed in thought. “That must have been a hard decision to accept.”

Ambrose gave a short, bitter laugh. “Hard? I hate it. I still sneak away with the navy when I can, just to feel like I’m actually living. I can’t stand being stuck in the palace all the time.”

Before Nix could respond, a knock echoed through the room. Ambrose called for the servants to enter. Two young women wheeled in a cart laden with platters of savory meats, warm bread, soup, cheeses, and fresh fruit. There was even a bottle of wine. One of the servants smiled brightly at Ambrose, a longing look in her eyes, but he barely acknowledged her.

“Bring clothing for my guest,” Ambrose instructed, not returning the smile. “And leave them with the guards. That will be all.”

The servants left, and Ambrose began serving the food, ladling a bowl of soup for Nix and handing him a soft bread roll. “Here,” he said gently.

Nix blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to serve me. I should be serving you.”

Ambrose shook his head, holding the bowl just out of Nix’s reach. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell anyone I’m a prince. I don’t want to be treated differently.” His eyes met Nix’s, their blue depths reflecting a hint of sadness.

Nix softened at the sight. “I won’t treat you differently,” he said, his tone firm. “But we have to be honest with each other from now on.”

Ambrose’s face lit up, and he handed over the soup. “Absolutely.”

Nix, blushing slightly, took the bowl. He ate quietly, hoping his flushed cheeks wouldn’t draw attention. After they had eaten their fill, Ambrose stood and motioned toward the veranda. Nix grabbed a handful of strawberries and followed him outside.

The night sky was breathtakingly clear. The stars twinkled above them, and the full moon bathed the palace grounds in silver light. Nix bit into a strawberry, letting the sweet juice trickle down his chin.

“You really like sweet fruit, don’t you?” Ambrose asked, amused.

Nix nodded bashfully, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. Ambrose reached out, using his thumb to wipe away a stray drop of juice. His thumb brushed Nix’s lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. Nix’s heart raced, unsure what to make of the gesture.

Ambrose turned to the stone railing, his expression thoughtful. “There’s so much I don’t understand about all this. Why accuse Hamford of dark magic?”

Nix swallowed, his thoughts still spinning from Ambrose’s touch. He moved to stand beside the prince, gazing up at the stars. “It seems like they’re trying to cover something up,” he said quietly.

Ambrose nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. “I don’t think my uncle is a bad man... but he’s not innocent either. He’s a good king, but I wonder what his true motives are.”

Nix remembered his strange dream before the storm and recounted it to Ambrose. “It was like... a vision,” Nix said, his voice soft. “A mermaid helped me.”

Ambrose sighed. “At least your vision was helpful. I’m not sure what it means, but Ithil, my magic tutor, might. He’s an old elf—knows more than anyone I’ve met. Maybe he can help you interpret it.”

“I’d like that,” Nix said, shivering as a cold breeze swept across the veranda.

“Come on, let’s go back inside.” Ambrose placed a hand on Nix’s waist, guiding him back into the warmth of the study.

Inside, Ambrose retrieved folded garments and a small bag from the door. “They found your things from the ship,” he said, handing the bag to Nix. “Check to make sure everything’s accounted for.”

Nix rummaged through the bag, his fingers brushing against a small package. He had almost forgotten about it—Elfreda’s gift. Unwrapping it, he found a blue velvet box. Inside was a gold chain with a reddish-blue teardrop jewel.

“This is beautiful,” Nix whispered, his heart swelling with emotion.

A short note fell out of the box, written in his sister’s familiar handwriting: 

*This belonged to Granna. She gave it to me when I left with Elara. I was nervous, just like you are, but this brought me luck. Now it’s your turn. You’ll do great things! Love, Big Sis Elfreda, your favorite!*

Nix clutched the necklace tightly, feeling a surge of determination. His family believed in him. He would do everything in his power to save Hamford.

“Want me to put it on for you?” Ambrose asked softly.

Nix nodded, overwhelmed by emotion. Ambrose undid the clasp and gently placed the chain around Nix’s neck. “It matches your eyes,” Ambrose murmured, stepping back.

Nix felt tears prick his eyes. Without a word, Ambrose pulled him into a warm embrace. Nix leaned into him, weeping softly against the prince’s chest.

“You’ve been so brave,” Ambrose whispered. “Let’s get some rest now.”

They moved toward the bedroom, and Nix hesitated. “There’s only one bed,” he pointed out.

Ambrose shrugged, unbothered. “We’ve slept in a cave together. What’s different this time?”

Nix’s face flushed. “Two men shouldn’t sleep in the same bed!”

With a mischievous grin, Ambrose scooped Nix up and threw him over his shoulder. “Stop being difficult,” he teased. He laid Nix down on the bed and locked him in a bear hug. “Don’t move. Go to sleep.”

Nix squirmed but couldn’t free himself. Despite his embarrassment, the warmth of Ambrose’s arms and the exhaustion of the day finally lulled him into sleep.